Gunner looked at me, worried for the first time all night. “You okay, man? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Let’s go,” I said, voice rough. “Now.”
We hit the parking lot, air like a slap to the face, and I doubled over by the truck, trying to keep my lunch down.
Gunner hovered. “Who was she?”
I pressed my fist to my chest, forcing the words out. “Harper fucking Larsen. She was… She used to be… nobody.”
Gunner let the silence stretch. “You want to go back in?”
I shook my head. “No. I need to think.”
We climbed in and headed for the highway, headlights slicing through the black. Every mile, the memory of her face—those eyes—burned hotter, brighter, until I wanted to claw my own skin off just to get free of it.
For years, I’d buried Harper. Buried everything about her. I’d thought it was dead and gone. But it was back now, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
Gunner drove, silent, hands steady at the wheel. He didn’t push, didn’t joke. He just let me work through it, like a true brother.
When the lights of Dairyville finally glowed on the horizon, I found my voice again. “Thanks, Finn.”
He nodded, eyes never leaving the road. “Anytime, Jess.”
Everyone thought I was a hardass, that I never gave the women they brought to the pack a break, even though fate had brought them together. That’s because fate had given me a mate too. But fate can’t keep your mate from rejecting you. Looks likethings didn’t work out so well for mine after she left me. You’d think that would bring me some kind of satisfaction.
But deep down, I knew better. It only made me want her all over again.
